


Tell Me You Love Me (don't lie)

by danceonthebrink (hetaliatomalia)



Category: Haikyuu!!!
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociation, Dysfunctional Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oikawa Tooru pushing down feelings with volleyball, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, nothing too graphic, ye the oikawa/OFC is non con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-24 12:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hetaliatomalia/pseuds/danceonthebrink
Summary: “You’re a guy, Oikawa. You should like this.”In a desperate attempt to get over his crush on Iwaizumi, Oikawa accepts a confession on a whim. He really should have given it more thought.





	1. 1

 

Oikawa takes a breath. One step, two steps, and he’s sprinting across the vast expanse of the shiny gymnasium floor. His expensive sports shoes (a sharp contrast to most of the other third-year’s school issued sneakers) squeak against polished wood, and he lifted his arms and began to jump, dominant hand raised.

  
In the background, faintly, he can hear the tell-tale cheers from what he supposes is his ‘fan-base’. Today, there were a group of five or so girls, all clustered together by the seats. Their numbers had diminished since Oikawa had gotten a girlfriend, which he supposed he was grateful for. They could be distracting at times, even though he was fairly used to a loud environment while playing volleyball. Nobody was quiet at games, after all. But ten or twenty plus girls, all yelling for your attention while you’re trying to perfect a toss at third tempo can be annoying. Not that he’s thinking about specifics or anything.

  
He hits the ball. It misses the water bottle by around twenty centimetres, but that’s what practise was for. Oikawa twisted his face into an overstated expression of disappointment, for the crowd. They make saddened noises, but urge him to try again. He shrugs, then strikes his signature expression (tongue stuck out, right eye shut, left hand in a peace sign) and picks up another ball.

  
He hopes that Iwaizumi wasn’t watching him. The spectacle that he was putting on today was exaggerated almost to the point of hysteria. And Iwaizumi _always_ picked up on when he wasn’t being genuine, and he always moaned about it. Iwa-chan’s always telling him to express his emotions, even if they were unpleasant. Oikawa responds with a biting comment, usually saying something along the lines of that being the reason that Iwaizumi didn’t have a girlfriend. Which, you know. Was probably true. Iwaizumi tended to be honest with his words and with his feelings, which put off a lot of people.

  
Iwa-chan didn’t understand that playing pretend was a part of life. Everybody did it. They put on a nice smile and act polite, because that’s what you were _supposed to do_. Iwaizumi said that he would never do that, but he probably would learn to suck up to people when he got a job. To customers, his boss, and probably co-workers too.

  
Stupid Iwa-chan.

  
Oikawau didn’t understand how he could do it and be so confident about it. Iwaizumi had always been so popular, just for being who he is. Not like Oikawa, who was ignored the first half of grade school and picked on for the second half. Oikawa had to _learn_ how to fit in, he had to learn to mould the pieces of his personality that people actually liked and shove the rest of his personality deep inside of himself. It worked for the most part, come junior high about every girl in the school had a crush on him (which might have had a lot to do with puberty, now that he thought about it) and now, in high school they came to watch the volleyball team practise just for him. Sure, most of the team knew what he was actually like, the embarrassing stuff like his obsession with space and Star Wars, as well as anything else that Iwaizumi told them. They knew what he was like, and that was probably why they thought he was annoying.

  
Which was fair. Oikawa was incredibly annoying, and proud of it. Sometimes he made an active attempt just to piss off his teammates, in fact. It was fun to see their faces.

  
They didn’t know everything, though. Iwaizumi almost did. Iwa-chan knew almost everything Tooru thought about anything, as he was happy to vocalise whatever he was thinking. But not quite everything.

  
It was third year of junior high was when it happened. The first thing that Oikawa had ever kept from his best friend.

  
It had started out with a comment from a classmate. Just one word, not even intended for Oikawa to hear, but that word turned Oikawa’s life around, in a way.

  
It must have been during break-time. Oikaway doesn’t remember what the weather was like, whether it was recess time or lunchtime, or what day of the week it was. But he remembers fooling around with Iwa-chan, getting on each other’s nerves by yanking hair and tugging clothes. They weren’t children anymore, not really. Oikawa’s features had flattened out, defined facial structure where there was once baby fat, and Iwa-chan had grown into himself, his once gangly and awkward limbs finally beginning to round out into a more muscular form.

  
They still weren’t really mature at heart, though. They didn’t realise the implications that straddling each other meant, and they didn’t consider what their classmates might think about them.

  
Iwaizumi didn’t seem to hear it, but Tooru did. Takeo-kun had watched them for a moment, then snickered, leant into his friends, and whispered, _**“fags.”**_ Oikawa had stilled, uneasy. He had heard that word before. It was another word for ‘gay’, which was synonymous with ‘weak’, ‘gross’, and ‘girly’. Oikawa didn’t want anyone to think that he or Iwa-chan were gay. He had seen what had happened to Kanda, a more feminine looking boy. If anyone thought that you were gay, that meant that you had your shoes stolen and were pushed when the teachers weren’t looking. Oikawa had gotten off Iwaizumi, and sat next to him instead.

  
Being called a horrible name was just a small contributor into the whole, actual scheme. It got him thinking. Why were he and Iwa-chan so affectionate and close? Sure, they had been fighting on that day, but for the most part they were happy to lean on each other, and sleep on the same bed, and being near each other. Oikawa didn’t see any other boys do that with their friends. He saw couples on TV (one boy and one girl, always) that acted the same way that he and Iwa-chan did around each other, minus kissing and holding hands. Oikawa certainly didn’t act the same way around his other friends.

  
That was what got him thinking, did he like Iwa-chan in that way? Tooru did his research. He borrowed his mum’s phone and used the internet to google inane things like “how to tell if you have crush on best friend” and “am i gay”. It was a startling time for Tooru. He realised that maybe his feelings for Iwaizumi were something more than friendship. He realised that he had a crush on Iwa-chan. Maybe he was even in love with him.  
He had cried. He didn’t _want_ to be gay. He wanted to be best friend with Iwa-chan, and at the same time he would date a really pretty girl and Iwa-chan would date a slightly less pretty girl, just so Tooru could brag about having a better-looking girlfriend. (He was fourteen at the time.) He didn’t want to kiss Iwaizumi, or hold Iwaizumi’s hand (even though he really, really did). He wanted to be normal. Nobody that he knew or saw on television dated other boys. Boys that wanted to were called mean names and had their shoes stolen.

  
Oikawa hated that for a while. But, after a while, he accepted it. He was in love with Hajime Iwaizumi. He would keep that to his damn self, though. Even though a thought had crossed his mind, a thought that maybe Iwa-chan felt the same way he did – after all, they had both done things that Takeo-kun had thought made them gay. So there was a possibility that Iwa-chan liked him back.

  
Oikawa had done some planning, to try and figure out if Iwaizumi liked him. He wouldn’t make a traditional confession, one that the girls made to Tooru – there was a risk of rejection. Instead, he decided to sneakily make his move in a subtler manner. Or at least, as subtle as you could get when you were Oikawa Tooru.

  
It happened when they were fifteen years old, now first years in high school. Oikawa was already a regular on the volleyball team, although Iwaizumi wasn’t yet. Iwa-chan and Oikawa were still best friends, that much had been unchanging and unwavering since they were six years old. Hopefully the tradition would continue until they were much older.

  
“Iwa-chan, what do you think about Ai-chan?” He had brought up one day.

“I don’t think a whole lot about Ai-chan, Oikawa,” came Iwaizumi’s reply.

  
“Oh?” Tooru leaned forward, an interested expression on his face. “Why not? She’s one of the prettiest girls in school.”

  
“I suppose… Why are you asking me this?”

Oikawa floundered. “Ah, well, Kimi-chan came to me and said that Ai-chan was thinking about confessing to me. I was thinking that maybe I would go out with her. What do you think?”

  
“I think that Kimi-chan should learn to keep her mouth shut. Ai-chan will be pretty embarrassed if she hears that she told you.”

  
“Iwa-chan! That’s not what I’m talking about. What do you think of Ai?” He pressed.

  
“Well,” Iwaizumi’s eyes flicked over to Oikawa. “She seems nice. And pretty, like you said. You should date her. I know I would, if she asked me.”

  
_I know I would._

  
Tooru leaned back, a mirthful expression on his face. Tried to pretend that his throat hadn’t tightened, that his heart wasn’t clenched in his chest. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I don’t know if I will, though.”

  
“Dumbass. Why’d you ask me all that then, if you were just going to reject her anyway?” Tooru hummed, then changed the subject.

  
Sure, Iwa-chan had never officially rejected him. He had never said that he liked girls, only girls. Maybe he had just been encouraging Oikawa to go out with someone, for once. Either way, it didn’t seem that Iwa-chan liked him.

  
Oikawa didn’t push his feelings down. That didn’t seem healthy. No, he indulged himself sometimes, pressing a hand into the small of Iwaizumi’s back, messing with his hair just to have an excuse to run his hand through Iwaizumi’s locks. For around two years, Oikawa didn’t deny his feelings for Iwaizumi, but he didn’t act on them. It was just two years of pining and unrequited love.

  
Until, one day, he decided. Oikawa had to get over his stupid crush on Iwaizumi.

  
He wasn’t sure why it was that day in particular. Why he woke up and decided that. Oikawa had had plenty of confessions, from girls of all sorts. But he chose that day as the day where he would get over Iwa-chan and date a girl instead. He would have gone out with the first girl who asked him, they just had to get their timing right. Maybe it was fate that, come lunch, a second year approached him, blushing down to her knees, and confessed to him. Really, he would have gone out with any girl if their timing had been right.

  
Perhaps if he’d considered it a bit more. He probably wouldn’t have chosen her – after all, she was a second year. Or maybe he would have? A lot of people said that they were perfect for each other.

  
And she was perfect, for a while. Almost his type. She was on the girls’ volleyball team (wing spiker) which meant that she understood all the pressures that came with the sport and wouldn’t break up with him over it. She loved volleyball as much as Oikawa did. Her blood type was AB and she worked part-time at a bakery and treated him to leftover pastries and milk-bread whenever she could.

  
Her name was Setsu Ruika, and she blushed when she told Oikawa to call her “Ruika-chan, or just Rui, if you like.” Oikawa calls her Setsu.  
They date for three months before it happens.

  
Oikawa wiped the sweat from his brow, approaching a nearby bench. Training would be over in twenty odd minutes, but he feigned thirst so he could get in a quick rest.

  
Mastukawa grins at him from on the bench, handing him a water bottle.

  
“Ah, thanks,” Oikawa stops halfway through lifting the bottle to his lips. “Hmm, I don’t know whether I trust this. Mattsun has a funny look on his face.”

  
Matsukawa snickered, “you’re too untrusting, captain. I would never do anything unsavoury towards you.”

  
Oikawa narrowed his eyes, turning the bottle around to inspect it. He grimaced when he caught the sight of a long scratch mark on his wrist, and hurriedly yanked up his wrist band. “You know, I wasn’t even that thirsty to begin with.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“If anyone asks, you fell down the stairs.” Oikawa stared bleakly at her frame. She was facing away from him, haphazardly pulling clothes on. He sniffled half-heartedly, too sore to cry properly. He couldn’t calm down enough to stop the tears, or to wipe them away, so instead he just sat there, choked sobs bubbling up at odd intervals.

His ribs ached. He was oddly aware of his own heartbeat, feeling it pound through his whole body every few seconds, an upsetting reminder that he was alive.

Oikawa stayed where he was for a moment, staring blankly at the ceiling. He could hear Setsu banging around, switching on lights and sorting through clutter. Dropping his head to the side, he spotted the pink skirt that was tossed carelessly to the floor after Setsu had slipped out of it. Then she had sauntered over to him, predatory look in her eyes.  Pushing him down, hands all over him. Breath hot on his face.

Even now, the overpowering scent of her stifling fragrance permeated around the room, flowery and artificial, choking him. He could taste it on his tongue, and feel it everywhere. Feel _her_ everywhere. He could see it, too, he could see where her handprints left indigo marks on his chest and on his thighs, where her fingernails had dug into his flesh.

They had dated for half a year now and it was becoming a regular thing. 

Oikawa took a deep shuddering breath. He had morning practise in less than an hour, and it took twenty minutes to get to school. He dazedly made his way to the bathroom, head swimming with sleep.

She was smoothing foundation over her face with even movements when he entered. Her eyes flickered over to where he stood in the doorway.

“Give me your arm.” Oikawa obeyed, and Setsu smeared the cool liquid over his wrists. It stung, the product irritating his fresh wounds. She rubbed it onto his bruises as well, rough and unforgiving.  

Then, with her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth in a cutesy motion that didn’t suit her, she dabbed some setting powder over her work of art, sealing the cosmetics in place. His wounds had completely disappeared, leaving only smooth, flawless skin.

“Like it never happened,” he said, admiring how good his skin looked.

“Yeah. Here, do your face as well,” she shoved the compact into his arms, as well as a few brushes and other bottles. “You’ll definitely need some concealer for your face. You look like a mess. Maybe use some blush as well, get some colour into your face. Oh, and don’t forget your neck.”

She turned away to go back to working on her own makeup. Oikawa surveyed himself in the mirror. Setsu had been right, his face looked terrible. His left eye was swollen so much that he could barely see out of it, and he had several different shaped scratches on his cheeks, forehead, and jaw. Tilting his head, he could see the dark bruises on his necks. They looked like hickeys, although he could see a few imprints from where her fingernails had dug in.

He picked up the same foundation she had used on his arms, as it seemed to have pretty good coverage. Mirroring Setsu’s motions, he began applying it on his face in circular motions. He spread it across the whole expanse of his face, going gently over the especially tender spots.

“You can keep that. It was expensive, but it’s your skin tone. Too dark for me.”

“Thanks.” They fell silent. It was unsettling domestic, comfortably sharing makeup and helping each other apply it. Oikawa wasn’t wearing a shirt and her uniform was unbuttoned, her bra peeking out. It almost reminded Oikawa of how his own mother and father acted around each other; completely content and without embarrassment. If Oikawa wasn’t using his girlfriend’s makeup to cover the bruises that she gave him, it would be perfect.

Afterwards, over a cold bowl of cereal, Oikawa checked his phone. Six missed calls from his mother. He had forgotten to let her know that he was spending the night out. Oh well, he could just use Iwaizumi as a cover story. His mum positively _melted_ whenever he mentioned Iwa-chan, she probably liked him even more than Oikawa did. Except… not in a romantic way, of course. Because Iwaizumi was only eighteen, the same age as Oikawa, and it would be really weird if his mum liked  boy that was the same age as her son. It was weird enough that Oikawa liked Iwaizumi.

He sent her a short message, a complete lie about how he had fallen asleep after an intense night of video games and Iwaizumi didn’t think about calling her and telling her where Oikawa was. Then, he explained a modified version of the story to Iwaizumi in a different text, begging him to cover for Oikawa. Hopefully Iwaizumi would spare him the questions and go along with his story. Wishful thinking.

“How do you think I did in the match last night?” Setsu mentioned.

“The practise match against Karasuno’s girl team? You won every set, do you even need to ask?”

She shrugged lightly, tilting her head. Oikawa recognised that motion. That motion was the calm before the storm. Damn. He had thought that morning was going a little too well. “Just checking. You didn’t really seem to be watching me.”

“If that’s the case, how did I know that you won every set?” he challenged.

“You could have asked someone.”

Oikawa huffed, searching for the right words. “That’s absurd. I watched you the whole time, for your information. You were very good. You’ll make an excellent captain.”

“You really watched me the entire time…? Oh, yeah, that’s right. I remember hearing you cheering for me. Your applause is still ringing in the back of my ears.”

“You’re mad because I didn’t scream and carry on whenever you hit a ball?” Oikawa said, incredulous. “My bad. I’m so sorry, I’ve been a terrible boyfriend. Next time I’ll jump up and down every time the ball makes it over the net. Maybe I’ll even make a banner. I’d make it real obnoxious, too. What do you think the slogan should be? Setsu is the number one? And I’ll colour in the letters with glitter, for extra pizzazz. Would you like that?”

She was silent for a moment. “I don’t understand why always get mad for no reason.”

“Well, you’re the one that got upset over nothing.” Oikawa was still feeling snippy.

She shook her head, then laughed shortly. It made Oikawa feel a bit stupid. 

“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” He offered in a peace-making gesture.

“I think I’m working. Who’s cooking?”

“Well, me. Mum’s not going to be home until really late, because it’s a Thursday, and I wouldn’t want the guest to have to pull something together.” See, Oikawa could be courteous and polite. He had manners, at the very least.

“Great. Instant ramen, then.” Setsu winked at him playfully.

“Are you up to the job then, Chef Setsu? What’s on the menu?” He joked.

“Don’t call me that. You know that I hate it,” she chided. Oikawa hated that about her. She always just picked one part of a sentence to comment on, even if it was completely out of context. He held his tongue, though. Stiff upper lip and all. No use starting up another argument, no matter how tempting.

“Sorry, it’s hard to get out of the habit of calling people by their last name.” He explained with the jaunty flick of a hand. 

“Really? Because you never even talked to me before we started dating. It makes me wonder why you don’t just call me Rui when you never knew me by anything else.”

“Still, it’s engrained in me. I don’t even call Iwa-chan by his first name.”

“There is the cutesy honorific, though. I don’t see you calling me Setsu-chan. Anyone would think that you were dating _Iwa-chan_ , not me.”

A pause. Oikawa decided to throw that ‘stiff upper lip’ bullshit to the wind. “Jealousy’s not a good look on you.”

“If you’re implying that I should be jealous-”         

“Ugh!” Oikawa moaned. “Just shut up.”

“You’re telling _me_ to shut up? How dare you.”

Oikawa groaned loudly. They had to leave soon, and Oikawa didn’t want to bicker the whole way there. Then he would be in a bad mood for the entire day, and so would she, and then when they saw each other again she would probably push Oikawa down the stairs or something.

“Look, you’re being a bitch for no reason so I’m just going to leave. Bye!” He waved exaggeratedly, grabbing his bag without bothering to put any food in there.

“Oh, okay. Sure, run away from any conflict that isn’t volleyball related. Have fun walking to school on your own.”

“I’ll actually be walking with Iwa-chan, actually. It’ll be really fun, because you won’t be there,” Oikawa said meanly. “In fact, we’ll be able to make out with each other the whole time without any interruptions. Since we’re so gay for each other, you know.”

She sneered at him, but he could tell that she was trying to cover up that she was upset. Good. He was glad that he hurt her feelings. She was the one that had left bruises, not him. She deserved to feel sad. Oikawa sneered right back at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter oops


End file.
